


I know a little sin to which we can aspire

by heavenisalibrary



Series: We're the kids your momma warned you about [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, High School AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1377007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenisalibrary/pseuds/heavenisalibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“<i>River!</i>” he half-shouted as he slammed the door of the principal's office closed behind him and stomped toward the desk. “What are you <i>doing</i> here? Wearing <i>that</i>?”</p><p>She smirked, biting on the end of a pen. “I’m here to discipline you, Mr. Smith.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know a little sin to which we can aspire

**Author's Note:**

> This is just too fun. Total PWP. For those of you to whom I talked about continuing this with — Bec and Megs, namely, but there'll be more that we discussed soonish.

John wasn’t nearly as surprised as he should have been when the secretary’s voice came over the loudspeaker, summoning him sternly to the principal’s office. He’d always been well-behaved in school — well, mostly. He got bored a lot and could be rather disruptive when a teacher got things wrong (alright, he could be downright _rude_ ) but he always knew when to pull back. He could always tell when he was about to step over the line and if he needed to he’d simply clap a hand over his mouth or ask to go to the bathroom, and about sixty percent of the time he’d find River also roaming the halls so he could just yell to her about whatever had set him off, and the other forty he managed to calm himself down before returning to class. 

His grades, however, were impeccable. His test scores were beyond reproach. He’d been ushered into the gifted and talented program almost instantly, and so even when he _was_ rather more trouble than his teachers would’ve liked, they tolerated him.

Since dating River, however, he found himself in hotter and hotter water. He couldn’t deny her much of anything, which was a problem when she wanted him to do things like steal cars and skip class and make things blow up in chemistry class. She protected him, to some extent, and the couple of times he’d gotten pulled over by the police for speeding or other ridiculous things ( _not_ that he was a bad driver) she’d gotten him out of a ticket with her uncanny ability to charm anybody, probably assisted by her low-cut tops, so he figured they were even for the few times she hadn’t taken the heat, but he’d not yet been called to the principal’s office.

He gulped as he walked into the main office, which consisted of a lobby, a meeting room or two, the teacher’s lounge, and lastly, at the end of the small hallway within, the principal’s office. It seemed miles away as he glanced at it, waiting in front of the secretary’s desk, and terribly scary. He was sure everything would be fine — he couldn’t think of the last stupid thing he and River had done, unless they somehow had surveillance footage of the last time they’d cut lunch to feel one another up in the back of his car. Or, he thought, tugging at his collar, one of the last _two_ times they’d done that. Possibly three — alright _five_ , but he’d been intentionally parking away from view of the cameras for that very reason, and River had assured him that they’d never get caught. He half believed her.

“Mr. Smith?” called the secretary, and he stepped nearer, drumming his fingers nervously on the end of her desk.

“Yes?”

“Principal Shepherd would like to —”

“Al _right_!” John said, tugging a hand through his hair before he flapped both arms upward, as though in supplication, pacing a bit. “It was only five times, half a dozen _tops_ , and it’s not like we skipped _important_ classes, just the especially dull ones — well, they’re all dull, really, but the ones that were _especially_ pointless and —”

“Mr. Smith!” the secretary said, looking up at him sharply over her glasses. “I don’t know _why_ the principal called you in — I just know that he did. You can head just down the hall and give a knock and see if she’s available.”

“Oh,” said John. “Right.”

He gave the secretary a silly little salute, which she rolled her eyes at, before heading down the hall and knocking on the door. A breathy, high-pitched voice that tickled at the back of his memory called him in. He opened the door, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the feet propped up on the desk, clad in deep red stilettos. His eyes trailed up the ankles over the shapely calves to her knees, where her legs crossed, to her thighs, which disappeared into a black pencil skirt. The skirt was accompanied by a black suit jacket that nipped it at a tiny, tiny waist where it buttoned. There was a second button, but it had popped open over her ample chest, the shirt underneath dipping into a deep v that did _incredibly_ things for her cleavage, and then —

“ _River!_ ” he half-shouted as he slammed the door closed behind him and stomped toward the desk. “What are you _doing_ here? Wearing _that_?”

She smirked, biting on the end of a pen. “I’m here to discipline you, Mr. Smith.”

He gaped at her, flailing his arms out toward the office lobby and then gesturing to her at her desk, then pointing emphatically to the placard on the desk she sat at, which clearly read PRINCIPAL JOANN SHEPHERD. She laughed, and he hurried across the room to lean over the desk and clap a hand over her mouth, which only made her laugh harder.

“The secretary out there’s a temp, honey. Totally new to the school,” River said, “she hasn’t got a clue who Principal Shepherd is, and when I saw our venerable principal herself looking rather green on her way in to school —”

“You were actually on time?”

“ — I helped her back to her car and told her I’d call in for her,” River said. “Rather unorthodox, really, and not one of my better cons — frankly she should probably lose her job for skipping out on work and trusting a student to call in for her, it’s deplorable, but Amy and Rory wanted me to go to some sort of internship networking event after school, and so I _had_ the suit…”

“ _That_ ,” John said, gesturing up and down the figure-hugging black skirt suit she had on, lingering particularly long on the red heels, “is what you were planning on wearing to a _professional event_?”

“Of course,” River said, “Amy and Rory think my spotty disciplinary record will make applying for university all but impossible, so they make me go to these things sometimes to try and get some sort of experience to make up for the, oh, you know, arrests and suspensions and that time I nearly burnt down the gym.”

“Still doesn’t explain the suit,” John said. “It’s — don’t take this the wrong way — a bit pornographic.”

“Sweetie,” River said, leaning over the desk so that her top dipped lower, and John _hoped_ that she’d pulled it down for his benefit because she was all but falling out of it, “you think I look pornographic in my phys ed kit, it’s a personal problem you have. But, frankly, I get far more job offers from kinky old men who haven’t an ounce of respect for women in the first place — it’s practically my responsibility to make sure they hire me to fuel their wank-fantasies and then stun them with my scintillating intellect.”

“Intellect,” John repeated.

River rolled her eyes, sitting back, and then smirking as his eyes snapped back to her face. He reddened. “It’ll be all the more satisfying when I take over their business and rob them of all of their assets.”

“Figures,” said John, “that you’d just strongarm your way through the glass ceiling.”

“It’s made of _glass_ , John,” River said, “it’s _begging_ to be ruined.” She dropped her voice for the second half of her sentence, making it low and warm and rumbling in that way that sent a shiver up and down his spine, and licked her lips to punctuate her words. He got the impression she wasn’t talking about gender politics anymore. “So, anyway, I put on the suit and walked in like I owned the place. The real secretary hasn’t been in for weeks, and I just told her I was terribly busy and couldn’t be bothered with any of the teacher’s problems.”

“You’re _mad_ ,” he said.

“I’m clever,” she corrected. “And bored. It’s no fun to play pretend with someone to play _with_.” She jutted her lower lip out, pouting at him, and he shifted his weight back and forth, swinging his arms from side to side. He’d been much more resistant to River’s more _insane_ impulses at the start, but less and less he saw any reason to protest. It was a bit of narcissism, in that he felt he could figure his way out of any trouble they might get into, and a bit of blind faith, in that River hadn’t been locked away for life yet — and a lot of it was simply that everything was _more fun_ when River grabbed his hand and dragged him into danger. So he sighed and relaxed a bit, stepping closer to the desk and trying not to launch back into another bickering match at the smug expression on her face — he loved how cocky she was, he loved how she knew how easily she could play him, but he also loved riling her up as much as she loved doing it to him. But nothing ever got done when they let themselves be as combative and obstinate as they were generally — immovable object, thought John, meet unstoppable force. More like unstoppable force meet unstoppable force, really; there they were, buffeting through the world around them, egging one another on, no one fast enough to slow them down.

“I still can’t believe your parents let you leave in that suit,” John said, giving her another appreciative once over as she dropped her feet to the floor, smiling indulgently at him.

“Adoptive parents,” she corrected, “anyway, it’s all new and they don’t want to push my buttons. Plus, I take after Amy more than she’d admit.”

“If they’re new and adoptive,” John said, “how do you take after Amy?”

River rolled her shoulders and looked away, running her fingers over the edge of a stack of papers before looking back to him with a bright smile. One of her hands slipped beneath the desk and she shifted her weight a bit, as though uncomfortable. He hated when she did things like that — when he applied pressure wrong, she immediately withdrew. He always stepped back when she did, but he wanted to _know_. 

“It’s complicated,” she said, “and anyway, let’s not talk about my parents right now. Catch.” She bent beneath the desk slightly and when she came back up, she tossed something at him. It hit him in the face, and he didn’t even really have to look at it to know what it was — she’d thrown her panties at him, tiny champagne-colored lace, and he spluttered a bit as he shoved them into his back pocket.

“You can’t be serious,” he said, “ _here_?”

She laughed. “Look how far you’ve come, though — once, if I’d thrown my pants at your face, you wouldn’t have had any idea what it meant. You’re getting better at taking hints.”

“River,” he said, “you’re treading on thin ice as is — any minute someone could come in and realize you’re not the bloody principal.”

“All the better,” River said. “You know how I love a potential audience.”

“Exhibitionist,” he accused. It sounded a bit like flirting. He hadn’t meant it to.

“Spoilsport,” she shot back.

“Now, now,” he said, “when have I ever spoiled anything but you —”

She cut him off with a laugh, throwing a pencil across the room at him, though he ducked to miss it and came up grinning. She hated his puns — well, she made a great show of hating them, but he had a feeling she found them rather endearing in a way. 

“Let’s get ‘round to your disciplinary hearing, then,” River said. “You’ve been very naughty.”

“Have _I_?” he said, stepping closer to her. He didn’t remember consciously agreeing to play this little game with her, but it seemed he was going to do it anyway. “What about you, you bad, bad girl?”

“Don’t talk back to me,” she said. “You’ll just make it worse. Take a seat.” She adopted a stern expression that shouldn’t have made him a weak in the knees, but kind of did a bit, as she stood from behind the desk, running her hand along the wood as she came to stand, centered, in front of it. She leaned back to rest against the desk, and after a beat of hesitation, John hurried over to take a seat in the chair before her.

“Are you going to punish me, then?” John said, lifting a brow at her. She crossed her arms over her chest, which had the delightful result of pushing her breasts together, and John licked his lips. “Make me stay after school for detention? Make me write ‘I will not be cheeky with the fake principal’? What are you going to do, spank me?”

He meant it as a joke, but the way River lifted a brow made him instantly regret saying it.

“Now there’s an idea,” she said.

“No — River, _no_ ,” he said, wagging his finger at her. “I follow your lead on a lot of things but there’s still — I still need — you still need to take baby steps with me, dear.”

“More’s the pity,” she said, and he exhaled deeply in relief. It wasn’t that he didn’t approve of his girlfriend’s more kinky proclivities — she was a total exhbitionist, she got off on torturing him, she liked everything a bit rough, and on more than one occasion she’d mentioned that when he was more comfortable she’d love to tie him up or blindfold him, among other things. River had kinks. A mile-long list of them. He was glad she trusted him enough to share them, and he could partake in one or two, but before River, he’d never dated anybody before — she’d been his first kiss, though he certainly hadn’t been hers, and he needed more time to get comfortable before he really let her take the lead. She respected that, just like she respected his desire to hold off on having actual, penetrative sex — they’d done just about everything _but_ , and at this point it was more a symbolic thing than actual nerves on his part — but she also didn’t lie to him. She didn’t pretend she wasn’t jonesing for more, even though she never pushed; he loved that about her. He never had to wonder what River was thinking or if she was cross with him. She told him outright.

“You’re not actually going to punish me,” John said when she fell quiet. She smirked.

“No,” she said, “I had a whole spiel worked up — a speech and a stern look to give you a bit of a fright, but, well, then.”

“Then?”

She stepped toward him, resting one hand on either arm rest, her face close to his as she gave him the glancing sort of kiss that made him follow after her. “Then you walked in and I just wanted to get your hands on me.”

“Past tense?” he said, leaning up toward her so that her lips brushed his as she replied.

“I read about a language once,” she said, and one of her hands disappeared behind her back. He heard the zipper as she undid it. “Long dead, very ancient, can’t even remember where from — something that started with a _G_. At any rate, this language had all sorts of grammatical tenses. Past, present, future, yes — but dozens beyond.”

He hummed, his eyes on her face, even as she let her skirt fall to the floor. Her body was the eighth world wonder, he was sure, but he so often got caught on her face. She caught light like a Rembrandt painting — her eyes were neither blue nor green, hovering somewhere in the middle, and he loved the slight crook of her nose. Her lips were full and begging to be kissed at all times, even when pursed in that haughty smirk he hate-loved, and the way all of her features fit together, well — he didn’t think there was a painter in any corner of space or time who could do justice to River Song.

“They had a tense to express the constant nature of something — it was an agglunating language, with a specific morpheme to make a word apply to all of time and space.”

“Sounds familiar,” said John. “What’s your point?”

“That’s the tense I would use,” River said, “if we had it in English. Not past tense — I want your hands on me, always, everywhere, forever and longer.”

John groaned, reaching up to grab her and pull her to him, kissing her hard as she slid into his lap, a leg on either side of him. She melted her body into his, sliding her hands down to run over his back between he and the chair, arching her body into his and pressing against him as best she could. He realized that she’d taken the skirt off because she couldn’t have straddled him with it on — it was certainly too tight — but it was only a moment later when she drew back, kissing his neck, and his hands skimmed down her sides to rest on her hips that he remembered that her pants were, in fact, in his back pocket and not on her at all. Groaning again, louder, belatedly remembering they weren’t really supposed to be in here at all — and certainly not doing what they were doing — he slid a hand to her front, running a finger along as much of her as he could reach. She canted her hips up toward him, whimpering and biting down on the skin of his shoulder as he circled her clit with two fingers, rubbing and tugging and teasing as she worked to undo the buttons of his shirt. 

“I love it when you get academic,” John said, smiling and giving her a quick kiss as she opened his shirt, dragging her nails lightly along the bare skin of his chest.

“I know,” she said. “Only you would see obscure ancient morphemes as dirty talk.”

“Not true,” he said, “there are probably linguists who live for that.”

She snorted. He kissed her again, grinning when he pressed a finger against her wet heat, just barely inside of her, and her mouth opened with a gasp.

“Come of it,” he said, slipping a finger inside of her and curling it back toward himself. Her hips jerked, and she leaned forward to bury her face in his neck. When he pulled his finger out and pressed it back in a few times, he felt her heartbeat speed against him, felt her fingers grasping against his skin, and when he pressed two fingers back into her she hummed, long and low, the vibrations rolling from her lips as she pressed them to his throat all through him. “You like that stuff as much as I do — maybe more. You’ve got a very particular face for when I’m being hot and clever.”

“You’ve pointed it out before,” she said. “It’s just my normal face.”

“I know,” he said, and she bit down on his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up,” she said.

“Not a chance,” he said, and drove his fingers back up into more deeply than he had yet. She gasped, sitting up, pressing her hands against his shoulders to give herself leverage as she lowered herself back onto his hand. He couldn’t do anything but watch her, open-mouthed, as she raised and lowered herself over his hand, grinding her hips down against the heel of his hand every time she came down, over and over again, faster and faster until she was gasping for air, and he thought he could come just from that — just from watching her bring herself off, using him as a prop. She looked down at him on her next upstroke, and grinned at his expression, laughing low in her throat as she slowed herself down.

“This isn’t a spectator sport, sweetie,” she said.

“It could be,” John said. “Can’t say as I’d mind.”

She smiled — and he knew that smile, he knew all of her smiles, and that was the smile that promised he’d regret whatever he’d just said. She leaned forward to kiss him, settling down onto his hand and letting him work her back up himself — she made all sorts of delightful little noises into his mouth, reaching down to undo his trousers, and then in a movement so quick to his slow mind that he barely reacted, she stepped back off the chair and slid to her knees in front of him. She pulled down his trousers and pants, pulling off his shoes and socks and he pulled off his shirt until he was naked before her. In the principal’s office. With his girlfriend impersonating the principal. 

They’d done stupid things before, but he thought this might’ve been the worst.

“Fair’s fair,” he said, gesturing at the top she still had on, “if that secretary comes into investigate, I’m not going to be the only naked person jumping out the window.”

She laughed, leaning back to shed her jacket, and then pulling her shirt over her head in one graceful motion. Her bra matched the pants crumbled in the pocket of his pants on the floor, but she quickly lost that as well, and his mouth went dry. She was stunning to look at, always — her skin was perfect, warm and golden and soft, and her shape was the sort that Marilyn Monroe could’ve only dreamed about. He wanted to lick every inch of her, but before he could pull her back to him she pressed herself between his legs and kissed his inner thigh and that — well. That was an image he wouldn’t soon pass up.

She kissed his inner thigh again, just the barest brush of her lips, looking up at him with a smile as she ran her hips up further, dragging her nails over his hipbones, up his stomach, over his nipples and back down. She kissed her way up his leg until she was so close that her hair brushed his cock as she kissed the juncture of his leg and hip, her breath whispering over his head as she switched to kiss the other side. He reached down to tangle a hand in her wonderful hair — he loved that, too, how soft and full her hair was, how she looked like a lioness whenever she stopped trying to fuss with it, the way no matter how tightly she tied it back on her head a few ringlets sprang free. He realized in these moments, when he took stock of River as each piece was unveiled to him, that there wasn’t a part of her he didn’t love, that he didn’t think was completely perfect. Sometimes he thought she was bespoke to him — sometimes he thought he was bespoke to her.

River exhaled, hovering over his cock, and his hand clenched in her hair. She reached out to wrap a hand around it, squeezing gently, and tugged upward, spreading her fingers over the head and then wrapping them around the base once more. She pressed her lips to his hip, sucking and licking as she continued to stroke him, and he tried very hard not to yank her hair every time she gripped him, even though he had a feeling she’d kind of like it. When she pulled her mouth from his skin there was an angry red mark, and he exhaled shakily as she kissed her way from his hip to his cock and then abruptly released him altogether and stood up.

“What —”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t _mind_ spectating,” she said.

He had _known_ he was going to regret that as soon as he’d said it, and he threw his head back over the top of the chair, groaning with frustration as River leaned back onto the desk, sitting on the edge. Licking her lips, she placed one hand behind herself to support her weight and the other between her legs. John let out a whimper as she ran a finger down her own folds, teasing herself, before moving her hand back up and pressing two fingers against her clit. She let out a soft moan as she began to circle them against herself, her hips giving a little jolt when she hit just the right spot. 

“Can’t I —”

“No,” she said, her voice breathy but sharp. She looked at him, her eyes heavy. “Consider this your punishment, Mr. Smith.”

She kept teasing herself until her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was heavy, and only then did she slide a finger inside of herself. John thought his brain stopped altogether as he watched her draw her hand back and thrust two fingers in on her next stroke, and was _sure_ his brain stopped functioning when she did it again, and again until she’d worked herself back up to the precipice, curling her fingers within her and pressing them up against that spot inside of her that made her toes curl on the arm rest. Her mouth fell open as she touched herself, and the moment she made that noise in the back of her throat, that half-whine half-growl hitching breath that drove him absolutely mad, he decided he couldn’t take it anymore, and all but lunged at her.

She gasped in surprise as he overtook her, immediately pressing one hand between her legs to join with hers, rubbing his thumb over her clit and adding one of his own fingers inside of her very slowly. He kissed her, tangling his free hand in her hair, thrusting his body against her where their hands met — oh, god, he had a mile long list of reasons he wanted to wait until they, as the kids said, went all the way, but that didn’t mean half the time he didn’t want to throw it out the window and just _bury_ himself in her. The slide of his fingers as they tangled with hers, in and out of her, was intoxicating and terribly intimate. She stopped kissing him to breathe, and when she threw her head back with a long, throaty moan he bent to kiss his way down her neck to her chest, taking a breast into his mouth and sucking hard on her nipple, running his tongue over and around it until she had to bite her lip above him, he knew, to keep from shouting. 

When she came, she was perhaps louder than she should’ve been, considering where they were, but he didn’t pause to think about it or give her any time to recover. He was desperate for her — her silly little powerplay, the way her body felt against his, the noises she made when she touched herself made him half-wild with want, and he knew if he didn’t distract himself he’d either come all over the principal’s desk or lose sight of his convictions and fuck her until they both saw stars. 

Instead, he ducked between her legs, grabbed her thighs, and pulled her to the edge of the desk. She was still quivering when he put his mouth on her, and she gasped his name as he immediately began to suck and lick at her dripping sex, delighting in the way her hips jerked every time he ran the flat of his tongue over her still-sensitive clit. He pressed his tongue inside of her and all but buried his face in her, and after a moment she tangled her hand in his hair, shifting her hips toward him, grinding herself against his face. He loved how single-minded she was when they were together like this — she wasn’t restrained in the best of times, but she wasn’t embarrassed her shy about seeking her own pleasure, and she never hesitated to tell when she did or didn’t like something he did, which he appreciated beyond measure since his experience was limited to her and her alone, and half the time he didn’t know what he was doing — but _this_ , this he _loved_ doing. Being suffocated by her and her need; he’d have reached down to touch himself, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to move his hands from where they grasped at her frankly phenomenal ass, and he didn’t think he’d last very long if he did.

She cursed above him, moving harder and faster, and her withdrew to suck her clit into his mouth, canting his head so his chin pressed against her entrance and then she was coming again, harder this time, her body shaking and her cry just a little bit louder. She tugged him up to her by his hair quickly, kissing him and kissing him until he was dizzy with the taste of her, delirious with the feel of her hot, sweaty skin against his hands as he ran them greedily over her body. He felt the quiver in her thighs as she wrapped them around him, and smiled smugly as he kissed the side of her mouth.

“I cannot _wait_ ,” she said, her voice low, “until you decide you’re ready, oh _god_ , will that be a good day.”

“And this isn’t?” he said.

“No, sweetie,” she said, “you know I only want what you want — this has been a _great_ day. I’m just saying — the rest? It’s going to be phenomenal. Whenever that day comes, we’re going to make sure we’re somewhere soundproof and we won’t leave for days.”

He hummed, kissing her, and she let him, draping her arms over his shoulders and pulling him closer, wrapping her legs more tightly around him so that his erection brushed against her lower stomach, and he grunted as she rubbed herself against it.

“The things I’ll do to you,” River said, pulling back and looking at him, her cheeks still flushed and eyes dark. He kissed her nose. “Things you’ve never dreamed of — oh, John. I will _ruin_ you.”

He choked as she slid her hips up and down against his, trying not to dwell on her words, because he just wanted to — he just _wanted_. Desperately. And she wasn’t making it easy for him, although he had an inkling that she’d stop him if she thought he were making a big, to him, decision with the wrong organ. She kissed the side of his neck as she shoved him back gently, standing and reaching her arms up above her head in a stretch that did wonderful things for her already wonderful body, and before he could even consciously consider it he grabbed for her, his hands on her hips as he spun her so that her back was to his front, and she gasped in surprise.

“I want you to,” he said in her ear, running his tongue around the edge before taking the lobe in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth, and her full-bodied shiver made his cock jump against her lower back. “I want to help you fulfill your every fantasy. I want you to tell me every dirty thought you’ve ever had, every sexy dream, ever time your mind drifts to this during class — I want all of it, River. I want all of _you_.”

She moaned and rubbed back against him, and he grunted, stepping forward so that she was pressed up against the desk. If he moved just right he could feel his cock rubbing between the cheeks of that remarkable ass and doing so made her grip the edge of the desk for support.

“Not here,” she said. He hadn’t meant to imply that, but he was surprised she protested nonetheless. “God, sweetie, I want you — but I want you to have time to think about it. To plan it. We’ve got all the time in the universe.”

He nodded, kissing her neck, unable to stop himself from thrusting against her again, and then again, and the noises she made just egged him on — if he bent his knees just a bit and pressed forward he could feel her, wet and ready for him, and he had a sudden flash of how lovely she’d look, bent over the principal’s desk with her ass in the air, and how she’d feel around him if he —

“Bloody hell, _stop_ talking,” she said, shivering against as he bit down on her shoulder to stop himself. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it. To distract himself, he reached a hand between them to slide along her folds, and she whined a bit and tried to turn around. “Let me take care of you, honey, I —”

“Shh,” he said, kissing her shoulder. “I need a distraction before I do something I’ll be cross with you about later —”

“It’s not _my_ fault you’re weak —”

He bit down harder on her shoulder and tweaked her clit, which shut her up instantly, though she squirmed a bit, still slightly sensitive. It was still a precarious position, because she was still _right there_ , but when he focused on her he felt more in control of himself and the situation. As he moved his fingers between her legs he thrust his hips against her, providing just the right amount of friction, and as he pushed his fingers into her once more he could hear the hitch in her breath and the muffled moan. He pictured her, hands braced against the wood, the principal’s name placard digging into her lower stomach, her nipples hard and breasts bouncing slightly as she moved her hips back against him, biting her lip to keep herself quiet. He buried his face in her hair, feeling himself slipping, but he needed to get her over the edge one more time — he wanted to hear her scream.

He fucked her with his finger, adding another, and then three, relentlessly until she was gasping and writhing against him. It was slightly uncomfortable for his wrist, but the noises she made and the way she pressed her ass against him more than made up for it. Her voice was high and thick as she cried out, and when her moans got closer and closer together, he only pressed into her harder, roughly slamming his fingers toward that spot that made her keen. She squirmed in his arms, almost as though struggling to escape, but he knew she wasn’t — she lifted herself onto her toes, her hips jamming against the desk as he brought her closer and closer — her hands scrambled against the wood, knocking a pencil holder to the floor, sending a file folder flying —

“ _John_ ,” she gasped, “don’t stop, I don’t care if tha — _fuck_ — that bloody secretary comes in, just — don’t — stop —”

He felt her walls constricting around him, and her moans turned to high-pitched cries, and when he bit down hard on her shoulder she came, shouting his name. It briefly occurred to him that someone undoubtedly heard her that time, but before he had time to think she’d pushed him back, turned around, and dropped to her knees, wrapping her mouth around his cock and taking it deeper than she ever had before, running her tongue around it in her mouth and he was gone, instantly, losing his fingers in his hair as he cried out her name. 

John fell to the floor, legs weak, and she pulled him to her, kissing him softly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.

“I _love_ to do that,” he said, “it might be my favorite thing.”

“Yes, well,” she said, “the secretary almost definitely heard.”

“And _I_ have no self control,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Best get dressed, hm?”

They helped one another find their clothes and button up, weak limbs and shaky hands, pressing kisses to skin as they covered it and smiling at one another like lovestruck idiots — which wasn’t wrong, but even John recognized that their behavior was slightly misplaced, given their location. It was only when they heard a knock on the door that he heard River gasp, and saw her scramble with something on the desk.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sweetie, you need to take a deep breath before I tell you this,” she said. “But we’re going to have to run, because —”

“Miss _Song_? Mr. Smith!” a shrill voice called from outside, who definitely wasn’t the temp.

“Because I accidentally knocked the loudspeaker on while we were —”

“You mean —”

“The whole school absolutely heard you giving me a third, incredible orgasm, so if I were you, I would cling to the pride in doing and —”

“ _River!_ ”

They ran, but it wasn’t clear to any onlookers whether River and John were running from various faculty members, or if John and the faculty members were chasing River.


End file.
